The washing machine is making that noise again.
When are you going to take the baby gate down off the wall?
Remember the garage siding that was cracked 2 years ago? You said you'd handle it right away? Well, it still isn't handled.
My husband's typical response: "Well there's nothing I can do about it now. I'm at work."
My husband's typical response when he got home: "What? You want me to fix that right now? I just got home."
It was a maddening cycle of never knowing when Joe's "sweet spot" was for managing my honey-do list.
And then one day he appeared at my door. Tall, strapping, blue-eyed Mark. Carrying a tool box. He was like an angel sent from heaven.*
|Why don't guys ever smile for pictures?|
"Um, Marianne? My name is Mark. I work with Joe at the firehouse and he said you needed some things done around the house?"
I quickly ran to the kitchen where I found my seven volume set of things I needed fixed. He went to work immediately. He even smiled and engaged the kids while handling power tools. Such an odd and unique experience.
"Do you...ah...do this for a lot of women?" I asked shyly, convinced that I was not the only frustrated housewife in his life.
"Do the husbands...er...know?"
"Not all the time. Sometimes I'm asked to park down the street to avoid suspicion."
"And the rest?"
"Well, some of the husbands like to watch. I think they want to learn a thing or two."
"Does that make you nervous? Having the husbands rate your performance and all?"
"Naw. I'm used to it. Plus, they're the ones paying for it."
I really began to put Mark on a pedestal. He was the perfect man in my eyes. Then I got a chance to meet his lovely wife at the holiday party. I gushed about what a great guy Mark was. So handy. So on top of things. He didn't even swear. His wife's response?
"Oh, Marianne. Come by my house sometime. I'll show you MY list. I don't think Mark has even changed a light bulb in 3 years."
Apparently, husbands are all the same.
Still, every few months or so, Mark comes over and works magic around the house. I almost didn't want to share him with the blogosphere because I'm a rather selfish person. But if any desperate housewife has been waiting years for an outlet to be added or a shelf to be hung, Mark is your guy. Drop me a line and I'll send you his number. Reasonable and discrete.
*For the record, Mark is a much better looking guy in real life. I called Joe at work today to ask him to take a photo of Mark when there wasn't anything on fire. When he sent this picture, I immediately called back: What's this? I want a nice, smiling picture of Mark. Holding a tool maybe. He looks like a serial killer. Go get me another one.
You can pretty much imagine Joe's response.